


The mailman

by ArielAquarial



Series: Dean and his Mailman [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Love at First Sight, Mailman Castiel, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Pie, Pining Dean Winchester, Wingman Sam Winchester, gym buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: Dean wasn't happy about switching shifts at the garage, but he definitely wasn't going to get in the way of his coworker taking some college classes. That decision leads Dean to seeing his mailman for the first time.How had he gone so long without knowing his mail was delivered by a sex god?





	The mailman

**Author's Note:**

> Why is it so hard to name a fic????

Dean knew he had a mailman. Well, duh. Of course he had a mailman. He had to get his mail somehow, right? Dean had never seen him though, since he had always been at work when the mail had been delivered. That was until he was forced to switch shifts at Singer’s Auto when Adam, Deans brother, signed up for a class at the Community College and absolutely _needed_ (“Please Dean! This is the only class I can take, all the other classes are full!”) to take this class and the only way he could do it was if he took the morning shift. Now Dean had always been a reasonable man, and although he would rather stick pins in his eyes than lose the morning shift he had been working since he was 16, he ground his teeth and switched with the kid. Dean wouldn’t be the one to stand between a kid and his education.

The first Monday, Dean didn’t know what to do with himself. Was he supposed to watch tv until noon? Take a walk to the park? Go grocery shopping? Dean had no clue. Usually, his shift was from 7am-3, so he still had a good chunk of his day left to get his shit done and then socialize a bit. Now, he was coming in at 1, so he was limited with what he could do in the morning. He very well couldn’t start on any of his personal projects, he have to stop after a few hours to get ready for work and leaving things unfinished would drive him crazy.

The first thing he tried to do was call his brother. That ended up being a mistake because now that Sammy knew that Dean had mornings off, he tried to talk him into going to the gym with him. ‘ _Its fun_ ’, he said, ‘ _I want you to meet my workout buddy! You’d like him’_. Sam had bought himself a gym membership at a fancy gym more than 4 months ago, and it seemed like every time Dean called, Sammy somehow worked in an invitation to come and learn and meet people. Dean vehemently refused. He wasn’t interested in taking any classes, nor was he interested in making any meat-head friends. And he definitely didn’t want to join Sam on his weekly lunch date with said ‘workout buddy’. Exercising at ass-o-clock in the morning was how it started, next thing you knew Dean would be drinking green smoothies and doing yoga. No fucking thanks. Dean preferred to burn his calories using his hands, like a man. Not in some gym where people got up at 4am just to get a ‘ _sick pump_ ’ and flex in the mirror taking selfies all day. Sam could take his fancy classes, and his exercise buddy ‘Cas’ and shove it.

He stuck with Dr. Sexy. What else had he bought the box sets for? It was 2 episodes in, that he heard it. A shuffle of feet and the clang of his metal mailbox being opened. He took this as a good time to get up and stretch his back, so he could get his mail. If he was lucky, his car magazine would be in there and that would give him at least an hour of entertainment. It was seconds after the metal squeak of someone raising his mailbox’s red flag, that he opened his wooden door and peeked outside.

What he saw stopped him in his tracks. His mailman was a man, and although the man was walking away, he could see that he was around Deans age give or take a few years. It was hard to tell just by looking at someone’s back, but the guy was a total stud. With tan arms and legs, and his navy blue shorts leaving little to the imagination as they stretched over the best pair of glutes dean had ever laid eyes on, Dean was sure he’d died and gone to heaven. He cursed himself for not getting up fast enough, because if he had, he would have been gifted with a glance of this guys face. If it was half as sexy as the rest of him, then it would be worth getting to know the guy. How the hell had Dean gone so long without seeing that his mailman was a sex god? His shoulders were broad, hardly contained by the blue uniform top, and dark brown hair spilled out of a black baseball cap.

He went to work that day in a daze. Dean _had_ to get a better look at that man.

Despite what his current position would say, Dean was _not_ a stalker. A stalker followed, and what Dean was doing definitely didn’t fit into that category. So what if he was staring through a small crack in his living room curtain, waiting with baited breath for his mailman to walk up to his box. What he did with his free time, in his own house, was not anyone’s business but his own.

It was a few minutes after 10:30, that movement caught his eye. There, at his neighbors mailbox, was the mailman. His muscular arms flexing as he collected the mail from his bag and placed it into the empty mailbox. Even from this distance, Dean could see that what his aviator sunglasses didn’t block from his view was gorgeous. Tan skin, sharp jaw line, and those fucking lips were the things that dreams were made of. Dean had to meet this man. There was no doubt in his mind that this guy was definitely someone he wanted to get to know. But how? He couldn’t just walk out of his house and introduce himself to the guy. That would be just as weird as him watching the guys butt as he moved to the house next to Deans. Which he was currently doing. Damn, had he really finished putting the mail in his box while Dean was busy drooling?

His first idea was too stupid to even try. Dean knew he wasn’t too bad to look at, but to sunbathe out of his lawn without a shirt just screamed desperate. His second idea was flawed, genius, but flawed. He got onto a parts website and ordered himself new sparkplugs for the Impala, knowing that he’d have to replace them within the next month. On the day of the expected delivery, dean waited in his living room, tv turned down low, for the mailman to knock on his door to hand the package over. As 10:30 drew closer, he snuck peeks out his curtained window and waited. It didn’t take long to see a figure walking a few houses down, stopping at each mailbox and delivering the mail. His sunglasses still stubbornly blocking the mans eyes. What Dean wouldn’t give to snatch those off his face and throw them into the street.

A small smile graced his lips as he saw the man open his mailbox and slide the mail inside, before walking down the sidewalk and away from Deans house.

Dean frowned. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to reach into his bag, pull out the box, and walk up to his door so he could ring the bell and give it to Dean in person. He even had the cold water bottle that he was going to offer him sitting right next to his keys by the door.

He slumped into the couch and shook his head before pulling out his laptop and opening the tab that had the tracking information. The dates lined up, he was supposed to get the package today. With an annoyed huff he folded his laptop and closed his eyes. He was going to have to contact customer service if it didn’t come tomorrow.

It wasn’t until he got home from the garage at 9pm, that he noticed a package sitting by his door on his welcome mat. Well fuck…from the look of the shipping label, UPS had delivered the damn package. With more force than necessary, he slammed his wooden door and threw the damned thing onto his couch.

He needed a better idea.

The next day, Dean woke up at 7am so he could get started on his plan. The local Mom and Pop hardware store opened at 7:30am and Dean was the first one through he door. It only took him twenty minutes to find and purchase what he needed before he was out of the door and heading back home. With a electric drill and a few screws, Dean attached his new wall mounted mailbox right next to his door. This way, he could get a closer look at the handsome mailman without anyone knowing that he was a desperate creep. With a smile of accomplishment, Dean began the task of dethatching the old mailbox from his fence.

This time, when the mailman came, Dean was ready. The man was fiddling with his bag, so he didn’t notice right away that the mailbox had moved. He watched the guy freeze, staring at the blunt top of fence where the mailbox used to be. The mailman tilted his head in confusion before glancing down the sidewalk and then to Deans door. Without much fuss, the mailman reached around to unlatch his gate, and then walk up to his door. Dean held his breath and watched through the peephole as the mailman’s stubbled face came into focus. Dean could see that he was even more handsome up close as he watched the man lift up the metal flap on the mail box and slip his junk mail in before turning to leave.

Dean smiled to himself and flopped onto his couch. Best idea ever. Now if only he could talk to the guy. There had to be some way he could strike up a conversation with him, but how?

Suddenly, a thought came to him. His lawn needed some mowing, didn’t it? Why couldn’t he just mow his lawn tomorrow and then say hi to the man. It was a friendly thing to do, wasn’t it? A quick glance at his clock told him that he had plenty of time to run out to the shed and check to see if his lawnmower had enough gas. As an afterthought, he brought it out and hosed it down. Couldn’t have it looking like he hadn’t cleaned it in the 5 years he’d owned it, right?

At exactly 10:20 the next morning, Dean pulled on his tightest shirt, a pair of dark wash jeans, and began the annoying task of mowing the lawn. By the time 10:30 rolled around, Dean was pouring sweat and regretting his plan. How could he have forgotten that the temp was supposed to be in the low 90’s today? He paused to wipe his sweaty forehead with his equally sweaty forearm and growled in frustration. He should have grabbed himself some water, but if he did that now he’d risk missing the mailman. With his hands on his hips, he glared down the sidewalk in frustration. The mailman was nowhere to be seen. With a huff, he stomped up his porch and let himself into his air conditioned house so he could get himself a nice cup of ice water.

Only a few minutes had passed before Dean was back outside, and this time, he saw a lone figure walking up the block. Dean glanced at his watch. The man was a little late, but that was ok. It gave him time to plan out the conversation in his head. He went back to his mowing, deciding that he would rather look busy than stand around like an idiot.

The waiting was torture. It seemed that the man was inching his way own the street, with no regard for the heat at all. When the man finally reached the house next door and slid the mail into their box, Dean turned off the lawn mower and tried to hide the fact that he was out of breath and desperately out of shape. He tried to affix a small smile on his face, one that would look friendly and inviting, and walked over to his gate.

The mailman didn’t seem to notice him as he dug through his bag, but when he finally looked up, his feet stopped in what looked to be a startled pause. Dean instantly berated himself in his head. “Good morning!”

The man walked the last few steps and held out a stack of mail. “Good morning to you as well.”

Oh god, that voice. The man must smoke 2 packs a day or something, because that voice was rough. Why wasn’t this man working for a phone sex hotline? Dean blushed at his imagination and glanced down to grab his mail out of the mans hand, and that ended up being mistake because it was that moment that Dean developed a bit of a hand fetish. How could he not? The mans hands were as tan as the rest of him, and with fingers long enough that Dean couldn’t help but get sucked into a few sexual fantasies that involved the man in his uniform, and a few "Yes, sir"s thrown in there for good measure.

The mailman pushed the sack of mail into Deans outstretched hand and it was only then that he realized that he had been staring at this persons hands in silence for who knows how long. Embarrassed beyond what he thought possible, he snatched the mail out of the man’s hands rougher than intended, and he could not bring himself to look at the guys face. He felt, more than saw, the man nod before turning away.

Shit, he couldn’t let it end like this. He didn’t even have a name! The poor guy was probably going to switch area’s after the creep show Dean put on for him.

“Stay cool!” He shouted after the man in an attempt to appear friendly. The man lifted his hand in a wave, not even turning back. “Its hot out…today…” he mumbled to himself, watching him as he continued walking.

“Oh shit.” Dean rushed to grab the lawnmower and practically threw it into the shed and his haste to get back inside his house. “Winchester, you fucking idiot.”

Later, after the third time Bobby had to yell at him to pay attention to the car he was working on (“We’re working with a deadline, ya idjit!”), he decided that he needed to take a break and get his bearings. He couldn’t let himself make a fool out of himself. Tomorrow he would regroup and think his plan through a little more.

The next day, at 10:30, after peeking out the window to confirm that the mailman hadn’t traded routes with a co-worker, Dean collapsed on to the couch and brought his attention back to Doctor Sexy. If Dean could get his shit together, then tomorrow would be the day. Dean was an outgoing person, he’d just treat this the same way he would if he was meeting someone new. If he embarrassed himself again? Well, then he’d just move.

California, maybe, he could take route 66 down. They needed mechanics there, right? They were rich out there, probably had lots of classic cars. He could start his own business, laze around on the beach all day, maybe even learn to surf.

Dean woke up the next morning and thought of California for one more minute before rolling his eyes at himself and getting up. Today was going to be the day. He would grab a book, make some lemonade, and park his ass on the porch and read until the mailman came. Then, he’d stand up, extend a hand, and introduce himself. That was a completely normal thing to do, right? Didn’t most people politely greet their postal workers?

That plan came crashing down when Dean, who had gotten himself absorbed in his book, was alerted by the noise of his gate creaking open. With one calming breath, Dean fixed a welcoming smile on his face and looked up to greet the man. But, to his shock, it wasn’t his mailman. A blonde haired, petite woman was walking up his walkway with a phone in her ear and the mail in her hand as she drawled into the receiver. Dean was in too much shock to hear what she was saying to her phone partner as she shoved the mail at Dean and he took it automatically.

Had he scared his mailman away? Had he been that creepy? Dean stood up of shaky legs and let himself into his house. He couldn’t have scared him away. He hadn’t been _that_ bad, right? It was probably just his day off. No big deal. Dean rushed to open his laptop and google typical mailman hours. To Deans relief, he found that other than the obvious day off on Sunday, the postal workers get one other day of a week and their route is covered by a sub.

Dean pushed his laptop off of his lap and sighed. All of this stress was going to give him an ulcer.

The next morning found Dean back on the porch, this time with a glass of sweet tea, and an old radio playing music in the background. It came as a complete and utter surprise to him when a Toyota Camry pulled into his driveway and parked itself next to Deans Impala.

Fuck. Had Sam mentioned that he was coming over? Dean thought back and sighed, no…he definitely hadn’t. Dean hated surprise visits and Sammy damn well knew it.

The moose unfolded himself from his car and smiled at Dean before reaching into the passenger seat and pulling out a box. “Hey Dean!”

“Bitch.” Dean greeted.

Sam laughed. “Jerk.”

Dean stood up and moved to help, but Sam shook his head and walked up to the porch. “What the hell ya doin here, Sammy?”

Sam held up the box and smiled. “Brought some pie. Jess made it last night, and you know we cant finish it.”

Dean scoffed at his brother. “Cant finish a damn pie…Pathetic.” Dean lifted the lid and peeked inside. Cherry, two slices missing. They were weak, pathetic humans who didn’t deserve this delicious pie. “Well, I suppose if you’ve come with pie, then you’re welcome to stay for a bit.”

Sam collapsed onto Deans other porch chair with a sigh. “Thanks. Got anymore of that sweet tea?”

“I’m not you’re maid…” Dean mumbled as he set off for the kitchen. He retuned to his porch with a generous slice of pie, and a glass of icy sweet tea for Sam.

“Thanks man.” Sam took a sip and sighed happily.

The bite of pie was heavenly and Dean groaned his appreciation. “You’re a lucky man Sam. If she ever gets tired of you, send her my way.”

Sam scoffed. “So what have you been up to?”

Dean shrugged. “Nothing really, just relaxing with Dr. Sexy.”

“You know…You could always come-”

Dean cut him off. “I’m not going to the gym with you, Samantha. Stop asking.”

He shook his head. “I just think-”

“Nope.”

“But there’s this-”

“No.”

Sam threw his hands up. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone about it then.”

Dean nodded in satisfaction and continued to eat his pie while listening to his younger brother mumble to himself. “How’s work treating ya?”

Sam visibly perked up. The dork was always so excited to talk about the online consulting firm he helped start. If there was one was to get the guy to cheer up, it was to have him talk about work. “Well, we hired a new team member the other day.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the words ‘team member’. Sounded so falsely positive and stupid. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Her name is Charlie, and we originally hired her to take care of a software problem we were having, but we kept her on because she just seemed to fit in, you know?” He sighed into his glass of iced tea. “We’re just looking for someone to manage our online presence. Charlie wanted to, but she’s a little too…eccentric.”

“Too eccentric?” Dean repeated.

“Well, she LARP’s, so…” Sammy pursed his lips. "Not that there is anything wrong with LARPing. She just has ideas that dont really align with the image we're trying to produce..." 

Dean snorted in laughter. “So she meets people at a park to throw beanbags at each other and hit people with foam swords?”

“Dean.” He groaned in exasperation. “It’s a legitimate thing. There’s tents, and food, and games…I’m going to the next one with my friend.”

“That your ‘gym buddy’?” he mocked. “Do I need to tell Jessica?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes, its my gym friend, and we _are_ going to dress up. It will be fun, you should come.”

He couldn’t hold back his laugh. “No way, looser.”

Sam just shook his head and stayed quiet.

“You don’t have to go into the office today?” Dean asked.

“No, I only go in a couple of times a week.”

Dean smiled. “Sounds sweet.”

He looked at Dean. “I still work while I’m at home.”

“At least you could have some Dr. Sexy breaks, though…”

When Sam didn’t reply, Dean looked over. Sam was staring down the street, butt on the edge of his chair and he looked like he was about ready to jump out of his chair. “Sam?”

“What the hell?” Sam asked out loud.

When his eyes followed Sams, Dean’s heartrate skyrocketed. If Dean was correct, Sam was looking straight at Deans mailman from where he was walking 2 houses down. “Sam?”

Before Dean could reach him, Sam shot to his feet and walked to the gate, leaning his large torso over the wood to get a better look. Dean stood up and glanced from his brother to the rapidly approaching mailman with dread boiling in his gut. This was it. The end. Sam was going to embarrass him so badly that he _would_ have to move to California. As soon as Sam left, Dean would have to start to pack. Would Bobby be able to find someone who could cover his shift after he disappeared? He sure hoped so. Dean hovered between wanting to go inside and hide, and marching over to try to do some damage control, but it was too late. Sam’s arm was already lifted in a wave and the mailman had noticed him.

The mailman paused. “Sam?”

Sammy laughed and opened the gate before he walked the few feet separating them and gave the man a hug. Dean’s eyes almost bugged out of his head with shock when the mailman’s mouth opened in a big, gummy smile and he returned the bear hug that Sam had given. “I didn’t know this was your route!”

The man laughed, and Deans heartrate picked up at the deep sound. Obviously they were close, so how had Dean never met this guy before? How had Sam never mentioned him before? “Its great to see you!” He told Sam. “I was just thinking of calling you and inviting you and Jessica out for lunch tomorrow. Gotta repay the favor. What are you doing here? You live on Clover street.”

Dean took a few steps forward and paused again. The man knew where Sammy lived? He was ‘repaying the favor’ of a dinner? Just who was he?

“We’d love to met for lunch. Text me later?” Sam smiled and the mans nod and gestured over to Dean, leaving Dean frozen like a deer stuck in headlights as the mailman’s attention was drawn to him. “I’m just visiting my brother.”

“Oh! The one you’ve been trying to get me to meet…” he said with a smirk, and then Sam was grabbing his arm and pulling him through the gate.

Dean had no time to pull himself together after the bombshell that was just dropped. Sam had been trying to get Dean to meet this man? And Dean had said no? His head was spinning, but it was too late to do anything because the mailman was now 3 feet in front of him and Sam was speaking.

“Dean, this is Castiel. He’s the one I told you about.” At Deans wide-eyed stare, Sam frowned. “You know. My gym buddy. I’ve been inviting you off an on for like 3 months, dude…I invited you 5 minutes ago.”

Castiel. Now Dean had a name. The man was now reaching up and grasping his sunglasses, and in one swift movement, pulled off his aviators and hooked them into his shirt pocket. His full face was now bared for Dean, and he couldn’t breathe. Blue. That was all he could think. Dark hair, tan skin, and blue eyes. Fuck, he could get lost in those…they were so bright and full of life despite the crease in his brow and slight squint from the sudden onslaught of sun. Dean had been missing out on this for months? If Dean had known that _this_ was the gym buddy that Sam had wanted him to meet, than he would have jumped on that train months ago!

Dean cleared his voice to prevent any unattractive cracking as he reached out a hand for a quick shake, side eyeing Sammy as he spoke to Castiel. “Samantha here must not have mentioned that I used to have a morning shift and couldn’t come in at 6 in the morning.”

Sam rolled his eyes and threw Dean under the bus. “You could have come this week, though…Besides, sometimes we meet at a more reasonable time.” He turned to flash a smile at Castiel. “Dean got switched to the afternoon shift, and I invited him this week but he didn’t want to go.”

Castiel let out a low chuckle, looking back at Dean, the sun catching his eyes and making them practically fucking glow. “I certainly understand not wanting to wake up any earlier than you have to. Unfortunately, with my schedule if I don’t do it early, it doesn’t get done so I don’t have much of a choice.”

Sam, the utter bastard, laughed along with Castiel. “Isn’t that the truth.”

Castiel looked at Dean again, meeting his eyes and doing all sorts of things to his poor heart. “Sam, you should Invite Dean to have dinner with us tomorrow.”

Dean managed a small, pleased smile. “Yes. That would be nice.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Well, its decided then.”

Can finally turned away from Dean and addressed Sam. “Unfortunately, I am on a schedule so I must go. It was a pleasure finally putting a face to the name, Dean."

“You too Cas.” Dean said in a fog, not even realizing he had shortened the mans name until he said it out loud and he immediately cursed at himself in his head. Cas, on the other hand seemed pleased if his smile was anything to go by.

Sam had a smug smile on his face as he clapped a giant moose hand on Cas’s shoulder and followed him out of the gate, speaking quietly with him as he walked down the sidewalk a little ways. Dean could do nothing but stare as they shared a quick hug and Sammy jogged his way back to Dean.

As soon as he was close enough, Dean grabbed his forearm in a death grip. “Can I speak to you inside, Sammy?”

The smirk never left his face. “Sure thing, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean reflexively replied before he dragged his brother into his house and shut the door behind them.

Sam yanked his arm free of Deans grasp and nonchalantly picked at a string that had freed itself from his shirt seam. “Yes?”

Dean took a second to take a deep breath and let it out. “What the hell, man?”

A laugh escaped from Sam before he was able to school his face back to being more neutral. “What?”

“That is your ‘workout buddy’?”

Sam pressed his lips together, still trying to suppress his laugh. “Yes.”

“So you see him, that god of a man, half naked and sweaty every morning and you didn’t tell me?”

Sam curled his lip up. “Gross, dude. And I invited you, multiple times, and you always said no.”

“That was before I knew your ‘workout buddy’ was the same guy whose been starring in all of my sexual fantasies!”

“Dean, ew!”

“And I’ve been working up to talking to him for a week, but I couldn’t work it up!” Dean finished with a growl.

Sam laughed. “That sounds like a personal problem.”

Dean cracked a smile despite himself. “Fucking hell.”

He shook his head, his smile never leaving. “What can I say, man. I’ve been trying to get you two to meet for like 3 months.”

“You been playing matchmaker Sammy?” He tried to look stern, but he couldn’t help but feel happy that his little brother _at least_ understood his type. One time Jess had tried to set him up on a date, and the girl had tried to feel him up under the table ten minutes into dinner. Deans wasn’t _that_ easy.

Sam shrugged, a defensive lift coming to his shoulders. “You think I would invite you to have dinner with us tomorrow if I wasn’t? Besides, I wouldn’t try and get you two to meet if I didn’t think you’d like him.”

Dean rubbed across his forehead. “Where can I get some fucking shoes?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Shoes?”

Dean turned around and walked towards his kitchen for a glass of water so Sam couldn’t see the red tint his cheeks were taking on. “Gym shoes, you asshole. And not the ugly bright ones everyone has. Black, or something like that.”

Sam’s smirk could be heard in his voice. “Just go into any sport store and ask for crossfit shoes. Saturday and Sunday are rest days, so you can start showing up on Monday.”

“Crossfit shoes…” he repeated. “Fuck. I’m not gonna be that asshole that does crossfit.”

“Calm down. They’re just more versatile. You’re not planning on picking up running, are you?”

Dean shook his head harshly. “Hell no.”

“Then just swallow your pride and get the crossfit ones.”

“Fine.” He grumbled. “So…you guys meet at 6?”

Sam joined him in the kitchen and got himself some water as well. “Yeah. Bright and early.”

“And you two were planning on grabbing dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah, at the roadhouse. You’re invited too, obviously. He meets Jess and I for lunch a few times a month. Jess thought you’d like him too, just so you know.”

Dean groaned. “What the hell am I thinking?”

Sam bumped his shoulder and laughed. “Cas seemed interested.”

He almost dropped his glass. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I told him about you. Like 4 months ago when we first met…and I may have mentioned you a few times since.”

God save Dean from little brothers. “What the fuck did you say, Sammy? So help me god, if you-”

Sam held up his hands and stopped Deans threat. “Nothing bad! Obviously, I want you two to hit it off. I left out the parts about you snoring-”

“I don’t snore.”

“-and that you have noxious farts when you eat Chinese food!”

Dean reached over and punched him in the arm. “I’m being serious.”

Sam rubbed at his arm and smiled. “I know. I couldn’t help myself. I told him that you are a great big brother, and that you practically raised me and put me through Law school. He knows that you’re family oriented, and loyal. I told him that you don’t really talk about emotions much, but that you always make sure to let me know that you love me in other, slightly painful, ways-”

“Stop, Sammy. I get it.” Dean had to clear his throat to get the lump in his throat to go away. “No chick flick moments, okay?”

“Fine. Don’t worry, I told him only good things.”

“And he seemed interested?”

“Yup.” He popped the p with a smile.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. “But how do you know?”

Sam laughed. “Because he asked if you were cute.”

Dean froze for a moment, his brain ceasing to work, before he blushed and cleared his throat. “And you said…”

“You’re my brother, I don’t know! I told him that people say you’re attractive. You never had trouble getting a relationship.”

“You told him that?” Dean rubbed his hand over his head, messing up his hair beyond repair. “Fuck. Now he’s going to think that I’m easy. 'Oh, he's always in a relationship, he must only want something casual...'”

“He’s not going to think that.” Sam reassured him. “And do you?”

“Do I what?” He growled.

“Do you want a casual relationship?”

Dean had to turn from his brother so he could collect himself before his answer. “I’m getting a little old for that, don’t you think?”

Sam, wisely, didn’t reply.

“Well…” He busied himself with putting his pie plate in the sink and giving it a good rinse. “If Cas is interested in something more serious, then I’m game.”

“I think you two will be fine.” He pushed Dean to the side with his shoulder and started washing his glass. “You should come tomorrow, maybe ask him out there.”

“I cant believe my baby brother is giving me love advice…” Dean mumbled, but he knew it was advice that he was definitely going to take. “Can you leave now? I have to get ready for work.”

Sam laughed and said his goodbyes. Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still unsure that he hadn’t fallen asleep on his couch watching tv and this was all just a strange dream. He pinched a bit of skin on his arm, and hissed in pain. Nope, not a dream then. What the hell had just happened. Was he really going to have lunch with his hot mailman tomorrow? Well, Sam and Jess were going to be there as well, but…

Wait…

Was this a double date?

Dean let himself collapse into his couch, nearly squashing his laptop with his carelessness. He ran his hand through his messy hair as he thought a few things through. Sam had said that Cas was interested. Dean was interested. Cas had been the one to invite Dean. Cas never said it was a date, but Sam and Jess were a couple so it wouldn’t be strange to assume that tomorrow would be kind of a date as well.

Shit. Dean had a date.

The alarm on his phone began to chirp, signaling that he had to get ready for work. He considered calling in sick, just so he could pull himself together, but immediately thought better of it. Work, dean thought, would be a good way to distract himself from the bundle of nerves that was currently growing in his chest.

In the end, work proved to be a good distraction. An engine rebuild took up his entire day and by the time his shift ended, Dean hadn’t thought of Cas once. Well, maybe he had thought of him a few times. Ok, maybe he had thought about him a lot, and work ended up boing a _horrible_ distraction. It turns out that cleaning the grime from a crankshaft left a person with plenty of time to freak out. Enough time, as a matter of fact, that Dean had to physically stop himself from calling his brother and telling the him that he wouldn’t be able to make it after all. The only thing that stopped him was the realization that Sammy would never let him live it down. Ever. To be too chicken shit to go on a date with someone who he was obviously attracted to, overshadowed the chance of something going wrong. And he had thought extensively about all of the ways something could go wrong ranging from spilling food all over himself, to somehow tripping and pulling the fire alarm in the middle of the meal.

He told himself over and over that there was no way that would ever happen, but it was still more likely than the date actually going well. Dean was just…Dean, and Cas was obviously amazing. And if the amount of time he spent in the gym was anything to go by, he was motivated. And friendly. And he obviously got along with his brother so that was a big plus. Dean could go on and on, but it was already getting late and according to Sam, they were going to meet at the restaurant at 1. That gave dean exactly 16 hours until the date and he needed 8 of those for sleep. There was no chance dean would risk showing up to a date with bags under his eyes, so sleep at 11 it was.

When Dean woke up the next morning at 7am, he immediately went for a cup of coffee. The weather wasn’t exactly something to write home about this morning, still on the wrong side of warm, and a gray overcast that made it hard to tell exactly where the sun was in the sky. Dean wasn’t going to let it get to him.

After breakfast, Dean dug into his dresser until he found his nicest pair of dark wash jeans, and then spent a moment deliberating between his black button down, or the forest green one he knew brought out his eyes. In the end he decided to go with the green and after staring at himself in a mirror for a few seconds, he rolled the sleeves up for good measure. Searching for his cleanest pair of boots was the most difficult part of getting ready, and by the time he was done, he had an hour and a half to kill before the double date.

He grabbed his phone from where he had left it plugged into its charger and unlocked his phone, noticing right away that he had a text.

 **Sam** : Hey, Jess is sick. Cant make it today. I already told Cas so he’ll be waiting for you.

Son of a bitch.

 **Dean:** Damnit Sam. I know what you’re doing. Get your lying asses down there.

It took Sam a minute to reply.

 **Sam:** Jessica says she’s offended that you don’t believe she’s sick

Dean replied immediately.

 **Dean:** I’m not stupid

 **Sam:** You’re welcome.

Dean groaned. He should have known that Sam would pull something sneaky like this. Dean could only hope that Cas was ok with eating alone with Dean. Sam had mentioned that Cas was interested, and right now he was hoping he was correct. He was not ready to deal with another awkward date today.

At 12:50, Dean walked into the café and observed the ‘Please Seat Yourself’ sign for a moment before he glanced around, hoping that Cas hadn’t already arrived. The moment he spotted Cas, his heart started thumping wildly in his chest. Cas was already at a table, alone. He was peering down at his phone, giving Dean a full view of his messy hair. Whatever Dean thought would be hiding under that hat, was no comparison to the reality. It looked soft, really soft, and it was messy. Dean didn’t know if it was Cas’s intention, but Dean was beginning to get the compulsion to run his fingers through it. The way the light above the table lit cas up made him look like a freaking angel. Dean was so out of his league that he internally debated turning around and walking out immediately.

It was too late though, Cas’s head was rising and Dean averted his eyes so he could pretend he hadn’t seen Cas yet. He let himself slowly slide his eyes across the room until they rested back on Cas, and then he tried for a small smile. Cas smiled back and lifted his hand in a wave.

When he approached the table, Cas stood up and held out his hand for Dean to shake. “Hello Dean.”

“Hey Cas.” Dean took the seat across from him and smiled. “Sorry its just the two of us.”

“Are you?” Cas tilted his head to the side, reminding Dan of a confused puppy. “I’m not.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not?”

He smirked. “Well, its unfortunate that Jessica is sick, but I’m glad that I have he chance to finally get to know you.”

Dean couldn’t help the blush from tinging his cheeks pink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Sam speaks very highly of you.”

Dean let out a nervous chuckle. “All good things, I hope.”

Cas nods his head solemnly. “Of course. I’ve wished to know you for a while. If I had known I delivered your mail, I’d have made an effort to talk to you. As it is, I don’t have much time to get to know the people on my route.”

A waitress interrupted them to hand over menus and take their drink orders.

Dean took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he flashed Cas a flirty smile. “If I would’a known you were Sammy’s gym friend, I would’a joined you guys this week.”

“Well, going forward I do hope you will join us. I can help you with your form, if you’d like. Its easy to get injured if you don’t to the exercises right.”

Dean would like. All sorts of images filled his head. Cas with his hands on Deans waist as he guided him through a heavy squat. Cas smiling at him over the shoulder while they changed in the locker room. Cas in the shower stall next to his, naked and wet as he washed the sweat off of his body. Cas bending over in a stretch while Dean watched from behind.

He cleared his throat and began looking at his menu. Thank god this place had burgers. “I’d like that. Your help, I mean.”

Cas smiled and when the waitress came around for their order, he ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries. Dean was immediately pleased and any worry about Cas being a health nut, or (god forbid) vegan, flew out the window. Unlike Sammy, Cas didn’t seem to be all about the rabbit food.

“So Dean.” Cas folded his arms and leaned back casually in his chair. “What is it you do for work? Sam mentioned that you’re a mechanic?”

Dean relaxed, work was definitely something he could talk about. “I’ve been working on cars since before I could walk. My dad used to sit me on a stool and let me watch him while he worked on things.”

Cas nodded encouragingly. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah. He used to let my help clean the parts, and then when I was old enough he’d let me change tubes and he showed me how to order parts. Cars have kinda been my whole life. Now that he’s gone, its those memories that I hold onto, ya know?”

Cas had placed a hand gently on Deans hand and squeezed before drawing his hand back and telling Dean that he was sorry for his loss.

Dean shrugged. “It happened a long time ago. I inherited the Impala, and that helps me feel close to him.”

“Is that the car that is always parked in your driveway?”

Dean smirked. “You noticed Baby?”

“Well, I don’t know much about cars, but I can see that she is beautiful and well taken care of. It s clear that you love her.”

Dean was totally going to marry this man. “Thanks.” He coughed and tried to force his face to cool down. “So, uh…how did you get into the postal service?”

Cas smiled and raised his eyebrow. “My brother Gabriel, actually. He’s a postman too. I was originally going to get into accounting, but after a few years in college I realized that I would never be happy with the office life.”

Dean understood. “Neither could I. I enjoy working with my hands.”

Cas nodded his agreement and continued happily. “Gabriel suggested I apply, and he helped me get the job. I love it. It allows me to stay active, and time always passes so quickly.”

“What do you do in the winter?” Dean asked curiously.

“I wear a good jacket.”

Dean laughed at Cas’s stern expression. “You must freeze your ass off.”

He shrugged. “Its not too bad. It helps when you’re constantly moving.”

“Well, this winter you can always stop at my house for a cup of coco.”

“I will take you up on that.”

Dean’s heart started beating strongly at Cas’s casual assurance that he would still be in Deans life this winter, which was still 4 months away. He couldn’t stop the goofy smile that slipped its way onto his face. “Awesome.”

The two men finished off their burgers in comfortable silence, and when the waitress came by to ask if they wanted dessert, both happily agreed to get some pie.

Cas cleared his throat when a large slice of pecan pie was placed in front of him. “I find that my conscience is forcing me to be completely honest with you.”

Dean, who taken a bite of his cherry pie the moment the plate had touched the table, had to force himself to swallow his large bite. Nerves started to build in his chest. “What?”

Cas looked away nervously, doing nothing to calm Deans anxiety. “Jessica is not sick.”

Dean sighed in relief, letting out a small laugh. “Well, I know that. My brother wasn’t exactly smooth when he told me.”

Cas shook his head. “Yes, but I was the one that asked if I can meet with you alone.”

Dean didn’t know how to react to that. He definitely wasn’t angry. Happy? Yes. Flattered? Hell yeah. “Why are you telling me?”

“I couldn’t, in good conscience, ask you out on a date without being honest.”

A choked noise wormed its way out of Deans throat before he was able to stop it. “You want to ask me out?”

Cas tilted his head and stared at him from across the table like Dean was stupid. And yes, he supposed he deserved it. “Was I not clear? I understand that I am not the best flirt, but let me make this clear for you. I would like to get to know you better…in a romantic sense.”

Deans face was as red as a tomato. “Wow, get straight to the point why don’t you…”

“I am too old for games, Dean.” He glanced away. “If you do not with to go out on a date with me, I will hold no hard feelings toward you.”

Dean reached out and grasped Cas’s hand, which had been drawn into a fist on the table. “I would like that.”

Clear blue eyes met Deans. “That makes my happy, Dean.”

They stayed like that, for a moment, both unable to look away. They finished their pie quietly, only speaking when the waitress passed Cas the bill and Dean put up a fight about at least paying for his food. “You can get it next time.” Cas had said, and Dean glanced down with a shy smile. And 15 minutes later when Dean gave Cas a goodbye hug and he was able to breathe in Cas’s scent, so much like the smell of rain, like the charged air before a lightning storm…he knew that he would always be grateful that his baby brother decided to be his wingman.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Get it guys? Gabriel is a messenger. Har har har.
> 
> I'm so heckin funny.
> 
> Comments are welcome! They fuel my muse.


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